


Hold me closer (so much closer)

by PoshGypsy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anger Management, Anxiety, Avengers AU, Depression, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, OCD, Paranoia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stony - Freeform, marvel AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-07 23:15:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5474138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoshGypsy/pseuds/PoshGypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers is suffering from PTSD and has moved into a safe house to help him work through it. There he meets five other people, a cat, endless support staff, and a way back to a normal life. </p><p>Unrated for now, have put mental health issues faced in this fic in tags in case of triggers</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Steve set down his bag in the clean, eight by eight room and looked round, chewing his bottom lip nervously. He wasn’t supposed to chew at his lip, it was a tell, a sign of his nerves that his doctors always picked up on easily enough and would poke and prod at him for before he ended up breaking down in their cramped little offices once again. But today, for now, there were no doctors, just a sweet little orderly on his arm who helped him find his room, and was now putting his things away for him. Or, she was checking he didn’t have anything dangerous with him, though she said she was merely putting things away. His old penknife from his army days was taken, as well as a lighter at the bottom of his bag he’d forgotten ever buying. When she tried to take the tags he was wearing, he stepped away from her, trying to stay polite, but firm.

“No. Not them, they’re mine.”

“Both of them? You’re wearing two sets there Mr. Rog-

“Yes, both of them. They’re mine. Mine and my…brother’s. You can’t take them.” Steve insisted firmly, hand clutching the two chains round his neck. The other belonged to Bucky, but words like lover or partner didn’t fly well in the army, and he wasn’t used to being anywhere else. So Bucky was always referred to as his brother, just to keep them both safe back in the army, and now that he’d passed… “They’re mine.” He repeated quietly, and the orderly sighed, but left him to settle in and told him that the people he shared the house with would most likely be in the lounge whenever he wanted to meet them.

 

Steve spent a good while just sat on his single metal bed, looking round his single metal room, and sighing. He’d left the army nearly a year ago now, and as life had gone on, he’d simply worsened. At first, everyone had said it was Bucky’s death, the stress of it all had obviously done something to him and his little outbursts had been ignored. And then he hit his boss. And then stayed hidden in his house for days on end, and that scene on the subway… They’d put him in a mental institution - no, a safe house they'd called it. He'd been put in a  _safe house_ after his third therapist – the first two having refused to see him after some rather unfortunate behaviour – had diagnosed him with post-traumatic stress disorder from all the things he’d seen in his army days.

So, here he was. Stuck until sane.

\---

Eventually, he was led to the shared lounge where he found five people scattered around the room. Two were in the corner playing cards, one a man, slightly slumped over and small in himself, with brown curly hair and a nervous smile, and the other, surprisingly a woman, straight backed and sharp looking, bright red hair burning brightly in the dull white room. He thought the floors were supposed to be single sex, but didn’t ask for now, just smiled as best he could at them as the nurse introduced him. They both looked up, and the man gave him a weak smile whilst the woman narrowed her eyes at Steve, looking incredibly ill of ease.

“This is Bruce and Natasha, and over there we have Clint.” The nurse said, pointing to a sandy blond haired man who was sat arranging dominoes with immaculate precision. He didn’t look up, but grunted hello.

“And this is Thor, say hello darling.” She cooed to a giant of a man, who grinned and shook Steve’s hand. “Greeting friend! How fine it is to have another member join our team!” He boomed happily, and Steve managed a genuine smile for the first time since getting there. The guy might be loopy, but he was at least friendly.

“And lastly Anthony. Anthony say hello.” The nurse said, and a short but well-built man looked up from where he’d been staring at the ground by the door, clearly not wanting to be in the room at all. “He doesn’t look insane.” He murmured, eyeing Steve up and down before slipping out of the door and disappearing back to his room.

“Don’t mind Stark, he’s just…” Bruce shook his head, cutting himself off and looking almost surprised that he’d spoken. “Welcome Steve.”

Steve smiled and nodded at Bruce. “Thank you.” He sighed, sitting down by their table and nodding to Nat. “So…I play winner?” He offered, earning the faintest smile out of the woman.

 

\----

 

Steve shakily marked off another day on his calendar with the big red marker they’d given him. It was a child’s pen, non-toxic and safe in case he tried to kill himself he supposed. That and it also had a star stamp on the end of it. According to the fox-themed calendar, he had been at Shield Psychiatric Home for nearly three months now, settling in ever so slowly and getting used to his daily routine. It wasn’t so bad, a bit like his army days, getting up early, exercising, shower, breakfast, and then whatever they had planned for the day, usually with a therapist session shoved into the middle somewhere. So, maybe not exactly like the army, but hey, he had to keep positive right?

He’d found that the other residents of the halfway house to be nice enough, though they had their quirks, which made sense, it being a mental house and all.

Natasha was the only female minus one of the care staff, found to fight far too much if she was housed with other women. She was sharp and cold and suspicious of nearly everything, her paranoia getting the better of her, but occasionally, she’d open up, and had always made sure the rest of them were taken care of. He liked to think of her as the mother of the group, though he’d never admit it aloud in fear he’d have his head bitten off. Something about the way Natasha spoke, the way she acted and the way her paranoia worked, made Steve think she'd seen some time in the army herself. But again, he was too worried about his head being bitten off to ask her. 

Bruce was shy and nervous, and Steve had only seen him have an anger episode once since being here, the sight shocking. He’d ripped a cabinet clean off the wall and thrown in at one of the nurses, two others having to sedate him to get him to stop.

Clint was great, a really nice guy and a laugh. He was easy to get on with and generally quite laid back if you didn’t get in the way of him whilst he went through one of his OCD episodes. A new support staff member had once accidentally interrupted his counting when he’d been sat at the table, and he’d been completely out of sync for days after, shaking horribly and not able to get a grip on himself. It had been strange to see the man so stressed.

Thor was…Thor. Steve wasn’t quite sure what to make of the guy, even if he was nice. Most of the time he was in a world of his own, talking about Asgard and Odin and lord knows what else. But despite his fantasy land, he was a kind, gentle man, and if he behaved himself, they’d let him play sports with the others, which he always loved. He’d been nothing but kind to Steve since he arrived, and they often arm wrestled when the support staff weren’t paying attention.

The last member of the house was…well Steve couldn’t really say. The name plate said Tony on his door, and he knew he was in with depression and anxiety – which really sounded like it sucked big time – but he never came out of his room. He’d been forcibly dragged out the day Steve came to say hello, and all he’d got was a grunt before they guy stormed back into his room, slamming the door shut. Bruce was allowed in there, and Natasha, but Natasha seemed to be allowed everywhere, and that was about it, bar his support carer and therapist.

“Stevie, your doctor’s here.” A nurse called through, making him tear out of his thoughts and look up with a weak smile, nodding. Dr. Coulson was a sweet man, if a little scary at times, though never to him. He’d let Steve talk about the war, the fear and the blood and the biting cold of winter that had killed so many of his men. Steve didn’t like the cold. PTSD had dragged him into this place, but with Coulson’s help, he was slowly getting better, step by step, bit by bit, and Steve could leave this place for good.

 

\---

 

“How come there’s never any tuna?” He asked one day, searching through the fridge in the kitchen, and the nurse smiled.

“Tony takes the tuna. He loves it I think, has it every day, two tins at least. Though he’s still skinny.” She shrugged. “I’ll buy you some tomorrow.”

Steve thanked her, but still frowned into the fridge. Why should Tony get to take all the tuna? He wasn’t ever out, wasn’t ever here. If it weren’t for his first appearance, he wouldn’t even know Tony lived here. He shut the fridge with a sigh, guessing he could skip lunch, but a firm look told him that wasn’t an option, so he settled for corn beef. Tonight, he’d attempt talking to Tony. And finding any leftover tuna.

 

\---

 

The door didn’t open before he knocked a fifth time, and when it did, it opened angrily.

Before today, Steve wasn’t aware doors _could_ open angrily, but there it was, plain for all to see. Well, just him actually, seeing as how he was alone.

“ – and I don’t want you eating the whole thing, you’ll make yourself sick. And the carers will think I did it and put me on a special diet again thank you very much missy.” Came a voice from behind the door before it finally opened, Tony stood there, glaring. “What?” He snapped.

Steve blinked, entirely unsure as to what to say, startled by the shorter man. “Uh…hi?” He said lamely, holding up a hand in a sort of half-wave.

Smooth Rogers.

“I’m Steve, we kind of…met…ish…on my first day here? And I figured, y’know, you’re the only one here I haven’t properly met and I should introduce myself and everything. Is this a bad time though? Who were you talking to, got guests?” He asked nervously.

“What? No-one. I wasn’t talking to anyone. You’re hearing things, probably why you’re in here, right?” Tony defended quickly, glancing behind him and shaking his head. “Right, yeah hello, nice to meet you, we’re best pals now see? So, you’d better be going, it’s been fun soldier boy!” He called, shutting the door quickly.

Steve was quickly losing his temper with the man. He was just being nice for God’s sake! And he’d hadn’t gotten to the bottom of the tuna mystery yet, he wasn’t about to let Tony just slam the door in his face. Shoving the door open, he stepped into the room and blinked when he took in the sight of the short, scruffy haired man clutching a cat to his chest and feeding it bits of tuna. As Tony looked up, his eyes widened and he stared at Steve, clutching the little cat closer to himself as if afraid Steve would take it. “You’re not supposed to be in here.” He stated simply, as though he weren’t holding a cat, and Steve nodded, the little cat looking up at him with a soft chirrup.

“I needed to talk to you.” He said softly, taking a step away from Tony so as not to scare him. “Are you uh…supposed to have that in here?”

“First of all, she’s a she, not a that.” Tony spat out, looking annoyed. “And secondly, Pepper is a perfectly clean cat, it doesn’t matter if she comes in to eat every so often. Just, just don’t tell them. But she’s hungry and cold and she needs somewhere to live. If I have to be locked up in this place, I should be allowed a pet, I’m a grown man for God’s sake.”

The cat – Pepper, Steve corrected himself – wiggled out of Tony’s arm and bounded over to Steve, rubbing against his leg happily, purring. “Hey there girly.” He said softly, picking the cat up and rubbing under her chin. “So you’ve been eating all the tuna huh? Guess I can’t yell at you for it.” He chuckled.

Tony stood there, looking very uncomfortable that someone was holding his cat, and he chewed his bottom lip nervously, sighing to himself. “She uh, she’s a stray. She needs the tuna.” He said quietly, as if explaining himself. His eyes were hard as they looked over Steve, and the ex-soldier smiled comfortingly.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell.” He promised, setting the little cat down again, and very, very slowly, Tony smiled, nodding.


	2. Chapter 2

“ – three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five.” Clint muttered, laying out his dominoes five at a time. Natasha watched him with a fond smile, careful not to touch him in case it distracted him. She also kept an eye out for any of the nurses, because they liked to distract Clint and fuck him up and that would mean he’d have to stay here forever and that was exactly what they wanted.

That’s why they tried to tell her her paranoia wasn’t getting any better either.

“Five.” Clint put down the last domino and sighed. He really hated dominoes.

“Morning all.” Steve nodded, walking in and grabbing an apple out of the fruit bowl on the side.

“Morning.” Clint murmured, leaning back in his chair and smiling softly when calming fingers ran through his hair. The staff often tried to separate him and Nat; they were worried the two were creating a romance that would damage their progress, but that wasn’t it at all. Him and Nat were just close.

“How did the tuna hunt go?” Natasha asked, glancing at Steve. He didn’t bother to ask her how she knew about his tuna hunt last night, but just shrugged instead.

“Dead end, oh well. Just have to learn to love corn beef instead.” He gave her a small smile and bit into his apple.

There was a small bang as someone bumped into a table, causing them all to look round, and to everyone’s surprise, Tony stood there. He didn’t usually make an appearance at breakfast unless a nurse was dragging him in. But there he was, strolling in like he owned the place, and making a bee-line for the pot of coffee left for them. “Morning.” He grunted, pouring out a cup. He glanced at Steve, gave him a small nod, and then left with his coffee and a piece of toast from a stack left on the kitchen side.

“Woah. Someone likes you.” Natasha grinned, looking over at Steve. "Eye contact and everything, I think you're a special one Steve." 

“What? What are you talking about?” Steve frowned, utterly confused. 

“Stark. He doesn’t come out for anything, not without staff making him. But here he is, making a special little effort to see the new boy.” Nat laughed and Clint grinned, nodding in agreement.

Steve’s hand clenched around his apple, uncomfortable with the idea of anyone thinking about him like that…not after Buck. “I’m not gay.” He muttered, leaving the room before the lie could be processed by the all-knowing Natasha.

He spent the rest of the day going over what she’d said, trying to figure out if she was screwing with him, telling the truth, or just plain crazy. Tony hadn’t even said two words, and she was spitting out all this nonsense…she had to be crazy. That’s why she was here right?  
Steve smiled bitterly at the echo of Tony’s words from last night. _That’s probably why you’re here right?_

-

“Steve…are you gonna go or…?” Bruce asked quietly, and the ex-soldier snapped out of his thoughts to focus on the chess game he’d agreed to play with Bruce.

“Ah yeah, sorry. Figuring out my next move.” He apologised, moving a pawn.

Bruce creamed him in about five moves, but they carried on chatting, if for nothing else, than to block out thoughts of Natasha and Tony.

“So you were a scientist?” Steve asked. “What field did you specialise in?”

Bruce shook his head. “I still am.” He insisted. “Just…temporary leave. This…thing…what I’ve got, what you’ve got, what any of us have…it doesn’t define us. I’m not gonna be sick forever.” He murmured, fiddling with a loose thread on one of the arms of his chair. “I’m most involved with nuclear physics, but I branch out a lot. Like to keep things fresh.” He smiled a little and Steve found himself returning the smile.

“That’s a nice way to think about it.” He nodded. “Nuclear physics huh? Geeze Banner, you’re the genius of the house then huh?” He chuckled, but again Bruce shook his head.

“Not quite. That’d be Tony.” He laughed a little. “That man is impossibly smart. It’s why he’s up in his room all the time. He likes to invent.” He nodded. “Of course, he can only do it theoretically right now, get down equations and ideas and formulas, that kind of thing. He’s not allowed any equipment.” Bruce sighed. “Such a shame.”

Steve tried not to cringe at the mention of Tony, but couldn’t help but be amazed by what Bruce said. Here was a nuclear physicist insisting that the shut-in upstairs was smarter than him by far.

Steve didn’t know Tony. Not at all. He shouldn’t be judging the guy by one little thing Natasha said anyway.

“So is he nice? I know you hang in his room sometimes.” Steve smiled.

Bruce seemed to consider this for a moment and eventually nodded. “He’s…different. He can be nice, don’t get me wrong but it’s like…there’s a whole other world up there.” He tapped his temple and smiled a little. “Not like how Thor is but like…he’s moving a thousand times faster than you are. You think of something and he’s already thought of it about ten minutes ago. But yeah, he’s nice. You just gotta keep up.”

Steve sighed heavily and nodded. “Keep up. Right.”

“Don’t worry about it too much Steve.” Bruce patted the man’s arm gently. “Are you sleeping alright?” He asked suddenly, and Steve, thrown by the question, just shook his head. An honest answer. Huh.

“Try Nurse Hill’s cocoa. Does wonders for a good night sleep.” Bruce promised.

Steve didn’t see how cocoa would stop horrifying flashes of his friends dying from appearing….but he was up for anything. “I’ll ask her tonight.” He nodded with a sigh.

-

The cocoa didn’t really help, but it tasted nice, so he kept having it night after night. And night after night, he wondered about Tony, up there in his room, mind apparently ticking away at a million miles a minute. It was early evening one day when Steve decided to try knocking on Tony’s door again. The man didn’t answer for a few minutes, but eventually peeked out of a crack before fully opening the door.

“Steve.” He nodded. “You…what do you want?”

Steve smiled softly and handed Tony a cup of cocoa. “Thought we could…talk. I mean we never got the chance after the other night with uh, with Pepper.”

Tony stared down at the cocoa, frowning into the drink for a moment before nodding. “A-Alright.” He agreed, and if Steve hadn’t been so focused on the man, he might have missed the slight stutter in his voice.

Tony didn’t do socialising, and Steve knew this was a big push for him.

“Great.” He nodded. “You mind if I come in?”

Tony glanced behind him, into his personal space, and then shook his head, stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind him. “We can talk somewhere else.” He insisted quietly. Pepper wasn't even in, but Tony didn't want Steve in there. 

Steve agreed to find another space and lead Tony down to a lounge, sitting with him by a large window. “So…you been here long?” He asked, unsure of how to start a conversation with the man now that he’d actually got him out of his room.

Tony shrugged, again frowning at his cocoa rather than looking at Steve. “Long enough.” He replied eventually, not really wanting to talk about it. People weren’t meant to stay here after a year, they were meant to transfer, to progress. People weren’t like Tony though. Tony was broken.

“Right.” Steve nodded slowly. “Time passes weirdly here huh? I noticed that.” He said, just to fill the awkward silence. “What did you do before you came here? Bruce mentioned that you liked inventing?”

Tony frowned harder because _Steve and Bruce had been talking about him._ What the fuck had they said? “Um, uh yeah. Yeah I guess. I used to run a tech business…it’s still mine I just…took absence.” He shrugged, slowly sipping the cocoa.

“Wow, that’s pretty impressive.” Steve nodded. He tried talking to Tony for nearly an hour, about his business, his hobbies, what he did for fun at the house, but Tony didn’t talk much. The man was quiet, contemplative, and nervous as hell, clearly not wanting to be there. Eventually, Steve feigned tiredness, and wished Tony a goodnight before returning to his room and sighing loudly. Getting through to the man was…beyond difficult.

-

Tony had been so surprised at Steve’s invitation, that Steve even wanted to talk to him…Steve was a good person. He was well built and had his shit mostly together – minus being in the safe house but hey, no one was perfect right? Steve was kind and good and the sort of person who made other people happy. And for some reason he wanted to talk to Tony. Tony was toxic. He didn’t deserve to talk to other people because he would only stress them out and upset them and make them realise how fucking miserable Tony was and _no-one_ wanted to be around someone as miserable as him.

But Steve did.

Steve talked to him, like any normal person. Steve was good and kind and sweet and he wanted to actually talk to Tony.

Tony finished his cocoa and went up to bed with a very slight smile on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

“ – eight. There’s always eight gunmen. And that’s when I see…see Buck- ah. James. I see him shot.” Steve murmured, gazing down at his hands. “Straight through the head. And all I can do is just, just stand there.”

Dr Coulson nodded, taking down notes and humming quietly in thought. “I see. And it’s always the same ending?” He asked gently.

Steve just nodded and carried on gazing at his hands, noticing a small scratch on the back of it and rubbing it slowly. He’d got it helping a carer carry in food from the mini-van, his hand catching against the door as he pulled out the last bag and got distracted by a can of tuna that had fallen out as he lifted it. It wasn’t a big scratch, wasn’t deep or painful or anything, but it was something to distract him from the conversation he was meant to be having, and that was enough for Steve.  
Coulson carried on talking to Steve about the dream for a good twenty minutes before letting him go, seeing it was becoming all too much for Steve to deal with in long bouts. The blond stumbled out of the room as quickly as he could and almost ran straight into Tony, who was walking down the corridor with an armful of books.

“Oh!” Steve caught the top book as it slid off the pile Tony was carrying and handed it back to him. “Sorry about that.”

Tony blinked, staring at him for a moment, and then smiled a little. “You stuck with the Doc?” He asked, nodding at the office.

“Yeah.” Steve sighed, not wanting to even think about the session. He knew they were necessary but…they were rough as hell for Steve to get through. He took a handful of books off of Tony and smiled. “Come on, I’ll help you carry these, where you headed?”

Tony looked unsure but nodded, not wanting to argue about such a simple gesture from Steve. “Uh, just, just up to my room. Sharon got them for me, they’re for my theory research.” He mumbled, leading the way up. 

“Right yeah, Bruce mentioned about you being a brain-box.” Steve grinned, following Tony up. “Suppose all this reading keeps you busy huh?”

Tony shook his head. “I’ll be done with these by tomorrow night, nothing really keeps me too busy in here…it all just drags on.” He murmured, and Steve almost stumbled at hearing the first truly open thing Tony had ever said to him. He couldn’t imagine what it was like in  
Tony’s genius mind, being plagued by depression and anxiety whilst trying to push out all these brilliant ideas. He imagined it was loud in there, a lot.

Steve was pulled out of his thoughts when Tony opened his bedroom door and pointed him to a desk littered in paper. “Just put them down there, don’t mind the notes, they’re nothing important.” He insisted, dumping his own on top of a thick notebook. 

Pepper the cat meowed at them from where she was curled up on Tony’s bed, and Steve smiled at the feline as he set down the books. “Hey pretty girl, how you doing?” He asked, walking over and rubbing behind her ear, earning a loud purr from her.

Tony stood by his desk, a little awkwardly, watching Pepper and Steve bond. “She appreciates the tuna donations.” He told her quietly, managing a small smile which Steve returned. 

“Good. Can’t have such a pretty thing going hungry now can we?” He nodded. “So what’s your project then?” He asked, nodding towards the books. 

“You wouldn’t understand it.” Tony said without thinking, and then looked ashamed. “I uh, I didn’t mean that in a, in a demeaning way I just meant….I mean it’s really advanced and-”

Steve waved him off, seeing he was making the man uncomfortable. “It’s fine. I’m sure it’d pass right over my head, I’m useless with that kind of stuff.” He insisted, not wanting to distress Tony any further. 

Tony fiddled with his sleeve and then sighed. “We should get out of here. It’s too depressing right? Way too depressing.” He insisted. “Getting sick of this fucking wallpaper. And the lasagne they always serve on Wednesdays, and the fucking awful soap in the bathrooms. Getting sick of it I swear to God.”

Steve smiled a little, amused by Tony’s tiny outburst, and nodded in agreement. “Maybe we can sort out a nature hike or something.” He murmured, and Tony just shrugged, rearranging a few things on his desk that, whilst they didn’t need rearranging, kept his hands busy. 

“Maybe.” He agreed quietly. “Even Pepper gets to leave though, whilst we’re stuck in here.”

“Pepper’s not supposed to be here though.” Steve sighed heavily, looking down at the cat. “She doesn’t have a care in the world. Not like us.” He murmured.

Tony seemed to consider this, staring at Steve curiously as he turned the point over in his head. “Right. Well I’ll see you later. Pepper and I have theories to disprove.” He murmured, walking over, scooping the cat up, and then opening his bedroom door for Steve to leave. Steve hesitated, not sure about the sudden dismissal, but he got up anyway and left, not wanting to upset Tony.

“Uh sure. I’ll see you later. Have fun with your…theories.” He mumbled, but the door was already shut. Sighing heavily, Steve went off to see if Thor wanted to play a game of cards.

\---

The mud was thick and slippery, pulling at their boots as they climbed up the winding path. Thor boomed about how he was used to walking on golden sands and ancient marble whilst goddesses brought him sweet meats and strong ales. Natasha just smiled and patted his arm, carrying on the walk with him.

They’d managed to convince some of the carers to come out on a hike with them, and even Tony had agreed to come out of his room for the group activity. He was quietly chatting to Bruce at the back about how he’d gone over recent journals from MIT and that the graduates from there nowadays just weren’t up to the standard. Steve smiled to himself, listening to Tony chatter on about all these new ideas, and wondered, not for the first time, just how busy it was up in Tony’s mind. 

There was a loud shout behind Steve suddenly as Tony slipped in the mud and fell, cutting the side of his face as he went down against a thorn bush. Steve hurried over to help him up, reaching out to take his hand, his eyes tracing over the image of blood and dirt and the dark jacket Tony was in. The smell of the mud and the weight of the wind against them, the shouting of others, the sound of gunshots, the sound of screaming, of Bucky, screaming-

 

Steve woke up on the floor, his head pounding, his hands shaking, and he could only hear a tangle of voices, unable to separate any singular one from the mess of noise. 

“Steve. Steve are you with me? Steve?” A voice finally broke through, and a nurse, Sharon, was gently rubbing his arm. “Hi there Steve. You took a little fall, had a little episode there.” She told him gently. “You’re okay though, here with us. Don’t move yet, just take a minute. Did you hurt anything as you fell?”

Steve frowned, processing her words, and shook his head. “No.” He muttered. He thought he was getting better, but the sight of Tony like that on the floor just forced everything to come crashing back. “Tony. Is Tony okay?”

“Tony’s fine.” Sharon promised. “He’s gone back to get cleaned up. We’re gonna head back as soon as you’re feeling up to it.”

“I’m fine. I can go right now.” Steve insisted, standing up before Sharon could stop him. He swayed for a moment, but then took a forceful step forward to try and show that he was fine. After Sharon, and several other nurses, forced him to wait a while longer to be sure he was okay, they eventually headed back to the house to get Steve cleaned up and checked over. Dr Coulson came in to check on him, but Steve didn’t say much, just explained what had triggered him and then insisted he was fine, that he’d talk about it tomorrow in their session. He just wanted a hot drink and a comfy chair.

\---

Tony watched Steve sip at his tea, peering at the man from a hiding spot on the stairs. Steve was sat on the couch with Bruce, discussing the day’s incident, and Tony felt guilt creep through him. He’d hurt Steve. He’d made him have a PTSD episode just when the man seemed to be doing fine. Tony had fucked Steve up just like he did everyone else. Tony wasn’t worth Steve’s time. Tony wasn’t worth anyone’s time.

Tony wasn’t worth anything.


End file.
